


In which Gil misses the point

by Overlord_Bethany



Series: Always Send Knives [11]
Category: Girl Genius (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon, also Warwick, and probably other things as well, mention of surgical procedure, the Humpty Dumpty Project, warnings for Weird Sparky Body Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:28:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22890256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Overlord_Bethany/pseuds/Overlord_Bethany
Summary: He has Science to do! He doesn't have time for emotional nonsense.
Series: Always Send Knives [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1088160
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	In which Gil misses the point

Gil paced, frowning at his notes, tapping his pen in a steady rhythm against the edge of the page. So much was wrong here. So much required urgent attention. “I’m not sure,” he said.

“I am.”

“Um,” replied Gil. He turned to the fourth page and frowned at it. “The pulmonary irregularities could kill you—“

“I’m aware of the hazards,” interrupted the man on the exam table.

“And the skeletal abnormalities—“ Gil ventured, but Warwick gave a firm shake of his head. Gil did a quick calculation and underlined the result. “Your neck—“

“I know,” Warwick said, his voice soft but resolute. Gil sighed.

“It’s your project,” he conceded, “but at least let me build you a brace. It won’t take me more than half an hour.”

“On your own time.”

Reluctantly, Gil nodded. Looking at his notes, he realized he had underlined the same figure, back and forth, so many times he had nearly worn through the paper. “Fine,” he said, trying without much success to silence his worries. “We remove the excess reproductive organs, and then we get right to work on figuring out how to recalcify your bones.”

Warwick smiled the thin smile of someone who, regardless of his fresh victory, was rather beginning to feel a chill. Absently, Gil reached for a spare lab coat and handed it to him. Warwick snatched it and pulled it on. It was several sizes too large, but at least it covered his unsettlingly concave chest. For the fifth time in the last ten minutes, Gil wondered what kind of accident could have done such extensive damage to a person.

“We’ll need to reserve a space—“

The door opened, and a familiar head of red hair came up short at the sight of them. Gil dropped his notes on top of his bag, which contained the two citations Dupree had incurred the other night: violation of University airspace and kidnapping without a license. Perhaps he should apologize to Tarvek for the incident, but he wasn’t ready to confess his unfortunate association with Dupree. Not yet.

Warwick slid down from the exam table, finding his footing with care while Tarvek took in his disordered state. His gaze got as far as Warwick’s bare knees before he reddened to his hairline. He turned to Gil, his lips curling back in a sneer.

“I didn’t realize you were a _libertine_.”

Gil hesitated. “We’re doing science,” he said, baffled by Tarvek’s sudden contempt. “This is Warwick, ah—“ Abruptly, Gil remembered that he did not in fact know Warwick’s full name. He felt heat creep up his own cheeks.

“ _Just_ Warwick.” He extended one hand, still holding the lab coat closed with the other. Tarvek took his hand in an absent manner that seemed more muscle memory than intent, but in an instant he became focused, his eyes widening in horror and fascination.

“Your fingers—“ 

“Decalcified,” Warwick said in that automatic way of people accustomed to prying questions. “Along with—“ He looked to Gil. “What was our estimate? Seventy percent of my skeleton?” 

“Seventy-three,” Gil said without consulting his notes. 

“Your ribs?” 

“Fully cartilage,” Warwick said almost cheerfully. Perhaps he enjoyed alarming people. 

“Spine?” Tarvek pressed. 

“Oh, that too.” 

“And then there’s the hypermobility,” Gil said, watching Tarvek’s reaction. His initial hostility had faded in the face of shock and pure scientific fascination. Unconcerned, Warwick retrieved his crutch and made his way to his folded clothes, which lay upon a stool that Gil had thoughtlessly batted away at some point earlier. Gil’s ears burned at the realization. 

“How do you sleep without suffocating?” 

Warwick shot Tarvek a grin. “Carefully.” 

Tarvek gave a slow nod. “I would assume so. I think—“ He caught sight of the shame on Gil’s face, and his demeanor turned abruptly frosty. “I have work to do.” He crossed to the shelf at the back of the room, selected two books, and started for the door. The look he aimed at Gil could have cut steel. “Don’t forget about _our_ project,” he said through his teeth. 

“Tomorrow at two,” Gil said, utterly failing at reading Tarvek’s foul mood. The door slammed, rattling various medical instruments in their trays. At a loss, he looked to Warwick. “What was that about, do you suppose?” 

Warwick didn’t look up from fastening his trousers. “He thinks he caught us in the middle of an intimate act.” 

“More intimate than science?” 

Warwick’s shirt fastened with magnets rather than buttons, but he struggled a bit with his two waistcoats. “More romantic in nature, I would think. Or physical, at least.” 

“But that would kill you!” Gil blurted just as fast as the words sank into his brain. Why would Tarvek assume such a thing? Well, he supposed Warwick was appealing enough in an objective sense, with his soft jaw and strong nose and stormy eyes, but still… 

Warwick wheezed a little chuckle. “Most likely so, yes.” 

Gil frowned, worrying this new information around in his head. “He accused me of low moral character,” he said softly. “Why would he think that?” More importantly: “Why would he be so put out over it, even if it were true?” 

“I don’t know,” said Warwick with the attitude of someone who may indeed not know, but who had a fairly solid guess. He managed his shoes with some effort. “If I see your friend around campus, shall I ask him?” 

“I hope we’re friends.” The truth of his words, as well as the reality that he did not know, hit him like a hot valve cap right to the chest. He had no idea where he stood with Tarvek, who had once been his entire world. The thought made him want to huddle under a table and hug his knees, but the Gil who hid beneath furniture was long gone. He needed to change the subject. 

“Warwick?” 

Warwick paused halfway to the door, his pneumatic crutch hissing a faint protest. “Yes?” 

“I’ve never been involved in a tryst before.” 

The grin Warwick turned on him bared entirely too many teeth for a man whose skeleton lacked structural integrity. “Just wait until you meet my chaperone,” he said, a note of something vaguely sinister hanging in his voice. It put Gil in mind of the way people would speak of Von Pinn. 

“I bet,” he said. Warwick resumed his progress to the door. 

“I’ll reserve us lab space, and we can get started.” 

“Good. The sooner the better.” Gil picked up his notes and leafed through them yet again. 

He and Warwick had much work ahead of them. Gil could hardly wait to get started. 


End file.
